


R +

by tossertozier (rednoseredhair)



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: M/M, i know i'm leading clown parade right now i just, so i can focus on my actual life, this is my clownass unrealistic take on the new bridge scene, this is what popped into my mind and i had to get it the fuck out of there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 13:29:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20136205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rednoseredhair/pseuds/tossertozier
Summary: Richie’s heart pumped, his mom wasn’t home, they could even go back to his and then they could- they could actually... Richie blinked, and reality settled in around him. He was not standing where he was just a moment before. Somehow, he had already gone back up to the bridge and carved the R, not really realizing he had moved, too wrapped up in his own fantasy before it got to be too much to even imagine.But he carved a little + just the same.





	R +

Richie was early. Jesus Christ. Richie was early. That’s how much the whole thing had gotten to him. He was really fucking early.

He dumped his bike and nervously bounced on his feet, shaking his hands out repeatedly. He didn’t know exactly what Eddie meant by needing to tell him something. Something important. And that Richie had to get to the bridge ASAP. He didn't know exactly what it would be, but he couldn’t help but have an idea.

But having an idea made him feel stupid and yet the Idea wouldn’t go away so he was left with trying to ignore it while pacing in circles and shaking out his hands and thinking of the Idea but also not really considering it because it was Eddie so this was bound to be stupid, but what if it wasn’t but also he couldn’t really think that but it could be and Eddie had been so clingy the last few weeks but that was just Eddie, but then again what if it was just Eddie but the Idea was stupid and so-

He jumped up on the fence of the bridge. It buckled under his weight a little bit. He nervously saw the creek below, and decided accidentally committing suicide was for another day, and hopped down. He made the short jump to the creek below, splashing into the very shallow water, barely touching his sneakers, and kicked around a trashed beer can and thought nothing of Ideas and everything of Eddie and accidentally kicked the can so hard it flew into the woods. 

He swore.

By his foot was a sharp, pointed rock. He picked it up, rinsing it in the shallow, cool water. He flipped it around. He had vague thoughts, of his idea and what Eddie would say and wouldn’t it be kind of funny if Eddie said that and, knowing Eddie, he wouldn’t just say it, he would ramble for half an hour about nothing and then goldfish and then finally get to the point, all nervous and shit and talking so fast only chipmunks and Richie could understand him, and he’d be so anxious about what Richie would say then Richie, really slick and everything, would slide step to the side and show Eddie a carved R and ask him to do the honors and that way Richie wouldn’t even have to say anything they could just leave it unsaid and then they could, Richie’s heart pumped, his mom wasn’t home, they could even go back to his and then they could\- they could actually...

Richie blinked, and reality settled in around him. He was not standing where he was just a moment before. Somehow, he had already gone back up to the bridge and carved the R, not really realizing he had moved, too wrapped up in his own fantasy before it got to be too much to even imagine.

But he carved a little + just the same.

“Hey.”   


Richie jumped, almost dropping the rock completely from his hand, scrambling to catch it. When he turned around, Eddie was rolling up on his bike, looking slightly too long for it, and as mildly ridiculous as he always seemed to look. Richie couldn’t help his grin, his near laugh as Eddie struggled to come to a stop and hop off in one motion.

“Bike, much?” Richie hollered, leaning back, pressing his back against his carving. 

“Shut the fuck up, much?” Eddie replied hoarsely, hopping on one foot as he awkwardly fell off his bike. Richie laughed at him. Eddie flipped him off.

Crinkled up fondness from Richie’s chest manifested itself in his face, feeling the ridiculous creases around his eyes as he poked at Eddie’s stupid polo shirt. 

“What were you doing?” Eddie asked, wheezing a little bit beside him.

“What was I doing when?” Richie asked vaguely.

Eddie looked unamused. “Just now.”   


“Just now when?”   


“Just now when I pulled up on my bike- you know what, fuck you, move-” he tried to shove Richie to see the bridge behind him. Richie planted his feet firmly, delighting in Eddie’s struggles to shove him away.

“No!” Richie laughed, “you can’t, you-” Eddie jabbed at his side and he laughed, ticklish and feverant “fucks, Eds. OW. Stop it, dick. You can’t see my art until it’s done.”   


“Your  _ art _ ?” Eddie demanded skeptically, huffing, but standing back. Despite the pain, Richie almost missed his hands shoving into him.

“Not everyone can draw a to scale replica of a dick as massive as mine-”   


“Alright, Picasso, enough-”   


“I mean if you really wanna see it, you’ll have to settle for the re-”   


“EW.” The outraged look on Eddie’s face sent delighted zings through Richie’s body, but not so much as the faint blush appearing right by his eyes, “shut the FUCK up, Richie, you fucking weirdo-”

“So:” Richie interrupted with feigned casualty, settling his back more firmly against the fence. He rested his elbows on it. Eddie seemed to accept the topic change gratefully. Eddie slumped next to him. Their arms were nearly touching… “what’s the word on the street, Pally? Why’d you drag me out here today?” He said in his best impression of a 1920’s newsie. 

For a moment, Eddie didn’t say anything. He looked up at Richie from his spot, slumped over the bridge on his forearms. His eyes were large and almost unnaturally open. He looked away.

Richie remembered his first rollercoaster ride pretty well. He was so excited to be past the height requirement, almost buzzing in the seat next to Bill’s. He was practically hopping with joy as the ride ascended to the top. And then, the car fell and his stomach dropped out of his body in an awful way and he thought he didn’t understand the world as much as he thought he did.

He was having that same feeling in that moment.

“She’s doing it, Rich.” Eddie said finally, staring at the creek. “We’re moving.” 

“Oh.” Richie replied quickly, trying to not give away that his heart was about to pound out of his chest. That… that sucked, but at least they had the rest of the summer to hang out-

“Yeah. We’re gonna go where her sisters are in New York, and not even the cool part of New York, too. I’m almost done packing but I didn’t know whether or not to bring my comics. I mean they’re fucking cool right, but if I’m moving I might as well try and be, like, actually fucking cool or at least not get the shit kicked out of me and I don’t think that, like, the comics help but maybe things are different in New-”   


“Wait, Eddie.” Richie interrupted one of Eddie’s probably endless tirades. His rambling faltered, and they made eye contact again. “When?”   


“Next weekend.” Richie looked up, and away. He stared into the trees into the distance, and tried to ignore the crashing upset in his chest. “I didn’t know how to tell you, so I-”   


“So you just didn’t?” Richie finished for him, an ugly, angry feeling crawling up his throat, scratching at his vocal chords, making them raspy and cold. 

“I,” Eddie stood, trying to catch Richie’s eyes, “didn’t want you to get pissed-” Richie could just barely seem him, out of the corner where his glasses didn’t reach, where everything was muddled and unclear and confusing. Richie didn’t look down at him.   


Richie laughed, something unfamiliar, ugly and mean, “why would I be pissed?”

Eddie faltered. “Because, I-”   


“You think I care?” 

Eddie didn’t reply. Eddie had also stopped nervously fidgeting just to his left. Was it insane if Richie had wanted it to hurt? If he wanted Eddie to have some kind of similar feeling in his chest to the cracking and crumbling happening in his?

But then he didn’t. Then he looked down at Eddie, and saw it written all over his face, and he regretted it. He regretted it, but felt like he trapped himself in a box of his own stupidity, like the rest of his goddamn life, and he said “you’re just like everyone else. You’re gonna be just like Bev, and Stan, and Bill, and you’re gonna leave and never come back. Never even fucking call. I’m used to it, okay? We’re all used to it.”

“I’m-” Eddie meekly defended, like he was trying not to let emotion slip into his voice, “I’m not gonna do that-”   


“Yeah, you are.” Richie looked away, back at the trees. 

“Well,” and while Richie wasn’t looking, Eddie did that thing he did where his emotions were a fucking teeter-totter, and he teeted his ass all the way to furious, “fuck you” he spit, angry energy coursing through him, making him that strange bouncy way he was sometimes, “for thinking I’m gonna do that, because I’m not, Richie, and the fact that you think I am is really fucking, it’s like.  It’s. Fuck, Richie, do you even know me at all?”   


“Guess not.” Richie replied evenly. 

“YEAH.” Eddie practically shouted. Richie looked down to him. His eyebrows were furiously knit together, cheeks flushed and angry. “I GUESS NOT.”

Richie felt like God smacked him in the forehead with two options: hi Richie! Here’s the worst wheel of fortune round you’ve ever heard of: spin to either: look away, or fucking cry like a six year old girl! Because this is what happens when you let yourself think something good maybe might happen for once in your pathetic life!

Richie looked away.

He turned, leaning against the bridge the other way, forearms digging into the wood the way Eddie had before, looking out at the creek. “If you’re gonna leave,” Richie told the creek, despite the fact it would never go anywhere. “Then just fucking go. Don’t make promises like Bill did. It just made it worse.”   


“I’m not going to-”   


“Just go.” Richie insisted to the creek, watching it run just the smallest amount. He felt the breeze push his hair around and his emotions push his inner organs around.

“Fine. Whatever.” Eddie said angrily. Richie heard him storm over to his bicycle. He picked it up while muttering, clanging sounds mashing with angry, whispers crashing from Eddie’s mouth, just barely inaudible. He got his clumsy body on it, Richie could hear him kick up the stand. “Fuck you, Rich.” And then Richie could only hear the sound of Eddie’s bike on the gravel, crunching, driving further away from him.

He wanted to scream after him. Fuck  _ you _ . Go fuck yourself all the way to New York, you annoying little asshole. He wanted to yell it. Wanted to growl it, wanted to say anything. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. And it was too late. Eddie was already gone. 

Richie waited.

He’d never know just for how long.

He looked back at the carving. He knew he was an idiot, but this was a new low. he thought about crossing it out, or writing something else, or doing anything about it, but his hands shook when he neared it and he didn’t know what to do about the R or the feeling in his stomach or the fact he was the biggest moron on the face of the planet and he just didn’t know anything anymore so he, without thinking, wound his arm back, and hurdled the rock as far as he could into the woods.

It clanked unsatisfyingly against a tree. 

The rock tumbled to the ground. 

Richie did, too. 

**Author's Note:**

> running for mayor of clown town please see my attached resume


End file.
